Rum is for Pirates
by Danny Phantom SG-1
Summary: Post AWE. Everyone knows Will is a pirate, right? But does he? Will does some thinking below the deck of his ship and finds that he's in denial.


**We all know Will is a pirate. But does he? He never admitted it. Everyone else admitted it for him…but our poor little Willy is in denial.**

Rum is for Pirates

_I am not a pirate,_ Will thought to himself. Yes, it was true that, after years of experience with them, Will knew that pirates weren't all bad. But just because they weren't all bad didn't mean he was one.

Here he sat, on an organ bench below the deck of the _Flying Dutchman_. His ship. His pirate ship.

_No! _He told his rebellious thoughts. _I did not steal it. It is mine. Pure and simple. It's supposed to belong to me, and I don't use it to steal anything (except dead crewmembers…). Therefore, it is not a pirate ship._

But it was given to him by a pirate. Well, not technically, nor literally _handed_ over to him like a plate of cookies (a disturbing image of Jack Sparrow in an apron appeared in his head), but it was a pirate whom Will could thank for his ship.

_But I didn't fight him for it or anything. I'm not brutal and ruthless like a pirate._

Okay. So he had fought people. But that was because he had to! It wasn't so that he could gain this ship. It was so that he could protect Elizabeth and save his father. Those were noble quests…not pirate quests.

_But they were carried out like a pirate…pillaging, plundering, killing, using people, betraying them…those are all traits that you could find if you looked up the definition of "pirate"._

Will shook his head violently (hoping that no one would come in and think he was impersonating a wet dog). Now his own thoughts were betraying him. Who had started all this? Why was he thinking? It was such a dangerous thing to do…especially when you were alone and below the deck of a powerful pirate ship.

Not pirate ship.

Just ship.

Ah, yes. Dear Old Dad. He had started this "thinking" business of Will's.

"I never thought you'd turn out to be a pirate. I left you with your mum, you know, so that you wouldn't have to follow in my not-so-noble footsteps," Bootstrap had said randomly earlier that day.

"Who says I'm a pirate?" Will asked his father, staring him in the eye as though the man had just told him his dress made him look fat.

Surprised by Will's reaction, Bill tried to redeem himself. "Well, I suppose you never…technically…really, ever…acknowledged…the fact that you were a pirate. I just…you know, assumed so, since you knew how to fight with a sword, you were killing people, stealing ships, gaining rewards for your bad deeds…and all that good stuff. But, I guess you aren't a pirate. Sorry I brought it up."

Will narrowed his eyes at his father questioningly.

_Am I a pirate?_

And so, the young Captain Will Turner Jr. (who actually ranked higher in sailing status than his father…sad times for poor old Bootstrap), having nothing better to do, was sitting on the bench in front of the organ thinking.

_I am not a pirate._

He had never actually thought of himself as a pirate. Well, Elizabeth had. He had been about to contradict her, but she had seemed to get really excited over calling him a pirate. And if she was excited, that meant more kisses. Why on earth would he correct her if he was going to get more kisses? She could think of him as a pirate if she wanted to…as long as it meant she would love him more.

_Pirates can be good men. Why don't you just accept the fact that everything you've done has been piratey? It's nothing to be ashamed of and you know it._

Why were his thoughts arguing with him? That was never a good sign. He was starting to get a headache, so he decided to go in search of something to calm his nerves.

He found a bottle of liquid in the corner of the room and he lifted it up cautiously, as though it were a deadly snake. Or a pirate.

_Gah, what am I thinking? My dad's a bloody pirate! My best friend's a bloody pirate! Heck, my wife's a bloody pirate! Everyone's a pirate. I shouldn't insult them with my thoughts by comparing them to snakes. Better yet, why don't I just admit _I'm_ a bloody pirate._

Because he wasn't a pirate. Just because everyone else was a pirate didn't mean he had to be one to fit in. If Elizabeth, Bootstrap and Jack all jumped off of a fifty-foot cliff into shark-infested shallow water with rocks in it below, would he?

_Yes. I would. What would be the point in life without them?_

Granted, he was living without Elizabeth and Jack right now, but at least he had one of the three people he truly cared about with him. He would see the others some day in the future, as well, he was sure. They weren't gone forever.

Well, as a technicality, he supposed jumping off of a cliff wouldn't kill him, being immortal and all, but it was the thought that counted, right?

He refocused his attention on the bottle in his hand and he took a sip.

His eyes went wide with shock.

Oh, no.

He did not.

_Yes I did._

He lowered the bottle from his lips as though it were poison from a deadly snake. But it was worse. It was the poison of a pirate.

Will had just ingested rum to clear up a headache.

Rum.

Bloody rum.

He lowered his head and stared in the bottle in his hand. He stared at it for a long time, doing that dangerous thinking thing again, then raised it to his mouth.

_I'm drinking rum. That makes it official. I'm a pirate._

_A bloody pirate._

**Wow, pretty random oneshot, no? Didn't even know what it was gonna be about when I started writing it. So…please tell me if I should do stuff like that more often. R&R, if you please.**


End file.
